Mother, My Liar, Tell the Truth
by TrinityBatch
Summary: Molly's mother is wanting to be a part of her life again. Molly is less than thrilled. Sherlock helps her sort out some feelings while confessing some of his own.
1. Chapter 1

Mother, My Liar, Tell the Truth

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or Molly or any other characters I reference besides this somewhat bitchy mom.

* * *

Molly Hooper is pissed off. Very, very pissed off. However, for the first time in years, it is not because of Sherlock Holmes! She should really make note of this.

You see, when Molly Hooper was very young, her mother decided that life with a family was too constricting and chose to leave. Molly's father was crushed, her brother barely remembered her, and she was fucking _angry_.

Were they not good enough for her? Was she too good for them? Did she find someone else? Why the hell would she leave her family all alone when her husband was in the hospital, sick with cancer? He managed to get in remission, but that didn't stop the heavy drinking for years to come and the return of the black shit, also known as cancer.

Anyway, all of this information is relevant because The Bitch has now decided she wants to be a part of Molly's life. She left over 15 years ago and she just wants easy access to everything that is Molly Hooper? Molly doesn't even want to see her.

All of these factors bring us to the conclusion that Molly Hooper, is in fact, very pissed off, because her mother has decided to show up at her very own _morgue_! She's actually quite lucky that there isn't a scalpel embedded somewhere in her person.

Let's listen to this _pleasant _conversation, shall we?

"What in the bloody hell are you doing in my morgue? Get out!"

"Molly, just let me explain! I've chan-"

A sharp bark of laughter cuts the older woman off. "Don't you dare tell me you've changed! What, did you find a perfect little husband and have perfect little kids with perfect little dogs and cats? Why are you just fixing things now? Tell me that. Don't tell me you've changed."

A deafening silence fills the room before it is broken by her mother's shuddering breath. "Yes, I found that. My husband was recently diagnosed with cancer and he-"

"Funny, how the men you fuck develop these consuming diseases, isn't it? I'm seeing a pattern."

"Shut up and let me speak, Margaret Hooper! I'm still your mother and you're going to listen to me. I left you because I was young and unhappy. You were unplanned and you're father wanted to get married. I just felt so tied down... Then your brother... God knows he wasn't planned either! Your father getting diagnosed with cancer... I just needed to get out. I wouldn't change a thing. I met a wonderful man that I love very much and had two more children. You have two other brothers, by the way."

"You're blaming this on me?" Molly's blood runs cold.

"That is the only thing you got out of all I just said? Dear God. Yes, I do blame you, but I don't regret you."

"I-"

The morgue doors swing open and a man with curly, dark hair storms in. Clearly on a mission, he pauses in confusion when he sees his pathologist glaring at a woman in her late 40's. He momentarily ignores her and turns his piercing gaze on Molly. "Molly, would you-"

"Both of you, get the fuck out! I need to think."

"But Molly-"

"Molly, honestly-"

The pathologist's headache is steadily increasing, so she walks over to her desk to get some Tylenol.

"Clearly this dreadful woman has given you unnecessary stress. I will see her out." Sherlock offers, smiling his best 'ain't I just a doll?' smile.

"I am her mother."

"You have never given a more accurate description of someone in your entire life of a detective, Sherlock. Yes, you may stay if you escort her out."

"Very well."

When she sees Sherlock making his way to forcibly remove her from the morgue, she huffs and leaves. "We will continue this discussion, Molly. This is my husband's dying wish. It's more than your father would have done!" And with that, she stomps out of the morgue.

"...That was your mother?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"You're so...angry."

"That's what happens when your mother walks out on you."

He clears this throat uncomfortably. "Right. It's just... I've only witnessed you display that amount of anger at, well, me." He grins nervously.

She chokes out a laugh. It's then he realizes she's crying, "I suppose you're right." She wipes at her eyes, before looking him full-on the face again. "What'd you need, Sherlock?"

"I actually wanted to, erm... It seems rather ridiculous now."

"Sounding ridiculous has never bothered you before. Spit it out."

"I originally came to ask you to dinner."

She cocks her head to the side in confusion. "Dinner?"

"Yes, 'the main meal of the day, taken either around midday or in the evening', according to the Google definition. An intimate sexual encounter, according to Irene Adler."

Molly opens her mouth to respond before pausing. "Which are you asking me to?"

"Both, actually, but I think the consumption of food would be beneficial, given your emotional state, however." He offers his arm to her, which she gladly accepts, linking their arms.

"It will have to do for now, I suppose."

* * *

"I was unplanned. She got pregnant with me when she was 18. I-I was 11 when Dad was diagnosed with cancer the first time and 12 when she walked out. I don't understand why she is getting in contact now... I just-"

"Perhaps she was telling the truth."

She sniffles, looking up from her food. "The truth?"

"She said it is her husband's dying wish. She, herself, probably feels like too much time has gone by and he has recognized it. He is doing it to make you both happy. To give her a reason, if you will."

"Yes, that makes sense. Thank you for saying that, actually." She takes a bite of her food before a thoughtful expression comes upon her face. "Thank you for hearing me out at all. What is this all about?"

"It occurred to me the other day during a case that I...can't stop being in love with you. I am in love with you. I tried to deny it so I could focus on my cases, but it would seem that trying to erase my feelings is even more of a distraction that actually... trying to feel them."

"I don't know what to say."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, of course."

"Good. Do you love me?"

"I-yes, yes, I do."

"Even better... Do you want me?"

A grin blossoms on her face. "More than anything."

"Then as our first decision as a couple, I would like you to talk to your mother."

The grin fades into a scowl.

End Chapter 1

**A/N**

**What do you guys think of this? I'm thinking of making it a two-shot or something. I don't know. I kind of have another idea for a second half. I'm sorry I haven't been on much. I've been so busy with school. I counted all of the reports I will need to do this semester (I'm home schooled so I can do this) and it turns out that between my six classes, there are 27 reports due! Jesus Christ, it makes me tired just thinking about it.**

**Please be praying because my grandpa is now in the hospital for cancer again. He's the partial inspiration for this story because it absolutely breaks me heart to think of everyone that fights their fucking cancer, only for it to come back in a few years. I also hurt my back and I'm in a lot of pain. Not been the best week for me.**

**Anyway, ta for now! I can't wait for summer when I can write all day for you guys ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

Mother, My Liar, Tell the Truth

Disclaimer: Don't own Sherlock :'( Sincerely wish I did though...

* * *

"I'm so glad you changed your mind, Molly."

"I didn't. Sherlock did. I don't want to be here and you can call me Margaret."

"Why are you meeting me if you don't want to?" Her mother asks, a confused expression completing her face.

"Unlike you, I know when to make sacrifices. Sherlock said this was important and I want him to be happy."

"So you'd give up your own happiness for him?"

Molly stops fiddling with the napkin and looks her mum dead in the eye. "I would and I did. Sherlock is the most important man in my entire life. If you felt a fraction for Dad, like I do Sherlock, you wouldn't have left him. Just the thought of never seeing him again makes my stomach squirm. This is where we're different, Mum. I love who I love. You liked who you loved."

"You don't know what I felt for your father."

"No, but I know what he felt when you left. I have absolutely no idea who you are. You are some strange woman that has waltzed into my life. For all I know, you're not even my real mum."

"I am."

"I believe you."

"You were not this calm yesterday. What changed?"

"I knew I wasn't going to solve anything by becoming angry and bitter. No, that's your department. I want to let go of all this baggage that I've carried around for years now. I feel like I'm ready. Do I want you in my life? No. Do I love you? Honestly, no. I don't know you. Do I think I need this closure?... I do."

"What do you want me to say?"

"You've never apologized for what you did. Not once. I don't want you to unless you mean it, but still... I don't know what you even want."

"I-... I don't either, actually. I suppose I did this because Sam asked me to."

"Sam?"

"My current husband. He's grown quite fond of you."

"He doesn't know me."

"No, but he wanted to help me connect with you, so he googled you quite thoroughly. With all of that Pathologist of the Night business, he found a lot."

"Ah, yes, there was an article with that title." She flushes a bit at the memory.

"Sometimes I think he loves you more than I do."

Molly looks down at the napkin again. "I miss Dad. Is Sam nice?"

"Oh, yes, much too nice for the likes of me. I don't know why he puts up with me." Molly smiles fondly, thinking of Sherlock and his own smarmy attitude.

"Could I... meet him?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Mol-Margaret. He's very sick and with your father-"

"I want to meet him. I don't want you. I want him."

"He's not your father."

"I want to meet him and my brothers. Sherlock and I came to a decision... We will all meet every Saturday until... Sam... passes. We'll try and build a relationship with you, but it's really up to you, isn't it?"

"Okay..."

* * *

"I'm very proud of you, you know?" They are lying on Sherlock's bed, entwined beneath his sheets. After her mother agreed to meet on Saturdays, Molly rushed out, claiming a work emergency.

"You were right. It's not healthy to be this bitter and angry about things. I just- It hurt."

"And that's alright. You're allowed to be hurt. She can't dictate how you feel, nor can I."

She turns her head up, facing him. "When did you get so smart about these things? I thought you divorced emotions."

"Yes, well, that didn't work out so well, did it?"

"Suppose not."

End Chapter 2

**A/N**

**This was short and awful. I'm very sorry. I'm almost seeing this turn into a multi-chapter fic, though. I suppose I could continue into her meeting the family. I don't know. I'm so bloody stressed with all of this school work. I have another Chemistry report to write and I'm still behind from the last one. Please be praying for me.**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoyed what was in here. I'll do better next time :)**


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